


September 21

by Im_Fratt_Trash (raysire)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Frank/Matt - Freeform, FrankMatt, Fratt - Freeform, I really don't know how to tag it, M/M, Red Castle, THIS IS A SHOT IN THE DARK
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7555558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raysire/pseuds/Im_Fratt_Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not often that Matt and Frank can spend a day out in the sun together.<br/>This is why today is so special.<br/>This, and another reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	September 21

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is a real shot in the dark. I've never written multi-chapter things before and I honestly have no idea where I want to go wth this (yet).  
> Let's just say it's an experiment, and if it fails... well, I'll deal with it.  
> Hope you guys like it.
> 
> Suggestions on the next chapters are accepted and encouraged! XD
> 
> (bonus points to whomever understands what the title stands for)

“Stop squirming!”

“C’mon, Red, it tickles!”  
  
Matt was sitting on the grass, his back propped against a tree, Frank’s head in his lap.  
His fingers were on Frank’s face, delicately mapping his features, his closed eyes, his lips, the curve of his nose.

He felt Frank smile under his fingertips, his eyelids flutter when he touched his lashes. Frank was ticklish, but Matt wouldn’t give in. He liked to memorise every tiny little detail of his lover’s face.

The scent of grass rose around them when Frank adjusted his position on the ground. The heat from the sun, filtered by the leaves above them, reached Matt’s head and his hands. He could almost picture the light dancing on Frank’s face. End of summer in New York: Matt had always loved it.

It wasn’t often that they could spend a day out in the sun. It was better for Frank not to be seen around much, and it was better for Matt Murdock, attorney at law, not to be seen with the Punisher, for obvious reasons. Today, though, was special.

Everyone seemed to agree that the Punisher always wore black – although some witnesses were ready to swear they’d seen him wearing white gloves, much to Frank’s amusement – so Matt and Frank had enlisted the help of a pair of faded jeans and a bright t-shirt (“ _It’s red_ ”, Frank had informed him, a smile in his voice) and a baseball cap, and decided to give this a chance.  
  
Now they were sitting under a canopy of trees, away from the footpaths, waiting for Karen and Foggy to arrive with food. Foggy seemed to think that his main purpose in life was to feed his friend, and Frank by extension. Which was quite right, as Frank tended to subsist almost entirely on black coffee, and Matt often forgot to eat proper food.

Max, Frank’s dog, was snoozing beside them. Frank had played fetch with him for a while, and now he seemed exhausted but happy. Matt could hear his quiet breathing and steady heartbeat. Even the dog was enjoying the day.  
  
“Why do you do this, anyway?”

“I told you. This is how I _see_ you. I mean, I can feel you, I feel everything, you know that. I can feel that you broke your nose at least twice,” he touched the bridge of Frank’s nose “I know your latest black eye is almost healed and it’s probably faded; I know that you’re looking at me. But this way,” he ran his fingertips on Frank’s cheeks “this is how I actually _see_ you. This is how I know you have the cutest funny nose, chapped lips, and a beautiful smile. It’s how I know you haven’t shaved today. This is also how I know that you are blushing like a schoolgirl and want me to stop, though I wouldn’t need to touch you to know that.”  
  
Frank chuckled. “God, Red, how long’s it been? Nine months? And you still manage to weird me out.”  
  
Matt laughed. This wasn’t the first time he’d shown his… _abilities_ to Frank. And every time, Frank had been as amazed at them as the first.

Matt knew one of the reasons behind this was that Frank felt exposed, even vulnerable, under Matt’s senses. Frank wasn’t very fond of anyone knowing everything that went through his head.

There were times when Frank would let Matt know everything, even enjoying the intimacy that this brought to them. At night, when they were alone together, Frank would let Matt listen to his heartbeat, he would let him run his fingers on his naked skin and read him. There was no need for words between them in those moments.

But out in the sun, he was still unable to let go completely.

Matt understood this, and tended to be more careful with Frank than he normally was with anyone else, tuning him out whenever possible, wanting to respect his desire for privacy whenever he could.

This time, though, Matt wanted to memorise every detail. From the smells in the air, to the sounds, to every single crease in Frank’s face, the way his lips formed the words, the way he held his breath when Matt got too close to one of his bruises with his fingertips, subconsciously bracing for a pain that never came. Frank often forgot that Matt knew exactly where and when to stop to avoid hurting him. Matt couldn’t blame him; it wasn’t exactly normal to be with a person with “x-ray fingers”, as Claire had put it once.

They had come a long way in the past few months. At the beginning of their relationship, Frank had been nervous, unpredictable, often leaving while Matt slept, not speaking to him for days afterwards. There had been times when Matt had felt used, other times in which he had felt like he was using Frank. They’d both had trouble accepting what was happening to them, each for his own reasons. And each had come to terms with it in his own way and his own time.

Matt knew that the problem for Frank was that, allowing himself to love again - to be happy again - he felt like he was somehow betraying his family.

Matt’s problem, on the other hand, was that he felt like he did not deserve this happiness. Everything he’d been taught went against what he was feeling. He had spent more time in Father Lantom’s confessional booth than out in the streets, on those first nights.

Then, one night, Frank had not left after Matt had fallen asleep. Matt had woken up the next day to Frank curled up in bed beside him, snoring lightly, a hand placed on Matt’s heart, and he had realised that something that filled him with such happiness, that made him feel finally whole, could not be wrong. Father Lantom had agreed (“ _I told you a hundred times, Matty”_ had been his exact words, and Matt could have sworn he was chuckling).

After that first morning, there had been many others. Mornings in which Matt had woken up alone in his bed, only to hear Frank tinkering with the coffeepot in the kitchen; mornings in Frank’s safe houses, in which Frank had woken him with a soft kiss before informing him that he was running late for work (“ _Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” “You needed to sleep”_ ); and those few precious mornings in which they could just lie in bed together in a tangle of sheets and limbs, Frank peppering Matt’s neck with light kisses, sending shivers down his spine.

“I can hear you thinking, Red.”

Matt pulled himself out if his daydream and returned his attention to Frank’s features. He was smiling. Matt loved Frank’s smile.

“What’s up?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“There’s something in you that makes me smile. You are so beautiful, Red. And I don’t mean good-looking…”

“Well, thanks!” Matt laughed.

“Shut it, Red! I meant, I don’t mean _only_ good-looking. You’re beautiful. And you make me happy. Being with you makes me happy.”

Matt did not reply. Frank’s words had left him speechless. This was the first time that he’d been so open about his feelings for Matt. Matt did not need words to know what Frank felt, obviously, and Frank was not the sharing kind, so a lot of things were left unsaid or taken for granted.  
  
Maybe this really was the right day, after all. There was something… _different_ in the air.

Frank took Matt’s hands and sat up, then kissed him gently on his lips, before standing.

“They’re here.”

Matt heard them too: Foggy’s footsteps crunching on the gravel, accompanied by Karen’s quicker, lighter ones.

Max got on his feet, shook his head and let out a tentative bark. Frank shushed him and he sat back down on the grass, wagging his tail and waiting for the new humans to arrive and pet him on the head. Sometimes Matt couldn’t believe that he’d been the guard dog of a thug. He was such a big happy puppy.

“Hey guys!” came Karen’s voice. Matt got up and went to meet her a few metres away, while Foggy went up to Frank, high-fived him, then sat down heavily under the tree, complaining about the heat.

Matt heard Frank grunt some response and took Karen by the arm, pulling her farther away from the other two men.

“So you’re going to do it today?”

“I am.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Fine. Nervous. Terrified.”

“Are you serious? Terrified? You’re Daredevil!” Karen laughed.

“I’d rather be beating up some criminals on a ledge right now, I swear.” Matt swallowed audibly. His throat was dry.

“Matt.” Karen put her hands on his shoulders. Matt could tell that she was looking at him straight in the eyes “Calm down. It’ll be fine. Trust me. If you could see how he looks at you, you’d know.”

Her hands were warm, her heartbeat slow and steady: she really meant what she was saying, she wasn’t lying to humour him. Matt relaxed a little. He took a deep, steadying breath.

“Come on now, _superhero,_ let’s go back there. You OK?”

Matt nodded. They made their way back to the tree, where meanwhile Foggy had laid a blanket on the grass and started pulling sandwiches out of the basket he and Karen had brought. Frank already had a beer in his hand. Matt sat down on the grass next to him and Frank handed him a bottle. It was cold. Matt pressed it to his forehead before taking a sip.

He leaned his head on Frank’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, drinking in Frank’s scent. _“Karen’s right. It’ll be OK,”_ he thought.


End file.
